


First Time for Everything

by Hopetohell



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Bodily Fluids, Come Eating, D/s themes, First Times, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Smut, Spanking, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28810104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell
Summary: There are many ways to fuck. August just hasn’t gotten around to the big one yet. Until now.
Relationships: August Walker/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	First Time for Everything

August Walker is thirty-four years old the first time he fucks somebody: you, specifically. And god knows he could’ve had his pick of anyone, it’s just. Entanglements are messy, difficult, time consuming.

_(So does this mean I get to take your cherry?  
_  
He snorts, mustache twitching; his hand is warm on your ass, soothing against the sting of the handprints he’s already left there. _I suppose it does, pet._ And he hits you again.)

_I thought it was just, like, your thing. The whole cold-and-distant dom bit. But you— you wanted it to mean something, didnt you?_

_Pet. After everything we’ve done, you think it takes my cock in you to count as fucking? When I had you shivering around my hand, you don’t think we were perfectly, intimately connected?_

(It starts with a conversation over post-scene snacks; you’re eating little bits of cut fruit while he rubs cream into the stripes on your ass. _Hey, August. How come you haven’t fucked me yet?_

_Don’t take it personally, pet. I haven’t fucked anyone._

_Nobody? Like, ever?)_  
  
It starts with a conversation and it ends here, in an actual bed for once, with August laid out over thick quilts, with his hands tucked behind his head and all that vast expanse of thick muscle on display. And August is hard and growing harder, cock twitching and filling against his thigh. He shifts his arm, rolls his shoulders, adjusts the position of his feet against the bed. 

_Pet. I’m not likely to last._

_Doesn’t matter. You’ve got a mouth and two hands. I just want to feel you in me, alright? I want you to come inside so I can feel it dripping down my thigh._

_Pet._ The word is tight, strained. _That— isn’t helping._

_Hey. Listen, boss. This is your show. Anything you want of me, you’ve got it. Alright?_ And he smiles a little, almost, at that. You, soothing him. How novel. _I just. Tell me what to do. I want to make it good for you._

_(How, though?_

_Hm. Busy with the academy, then work. Then with trying not to die. Couldn’t risk connection, and didn’t want a bunch of one-night stands. And then you came along._

_Me?_

_You._

_But— how long have we been doing this? And you’ve never— fuck. I never knew. Christ, I should’ve—_

_Pet. No. Have you not been satisfied? Because I have. There are many ways to fuck, pet, and my cock in you will be just another way to take you apart.)_

_I think. I think I'd like you to ride me._ He fists his cock slow and lazy, watching. _Get yourself ready for me._ And if it's a little more hands-off than usual, that's alright. This is a sea change for him, for both of you really, a recalibration to account for this new information. And while August isn't ashamed-- he might well not even know _how_ to feel shame-- he is on unfamiliar ground. And then again, knowing him, he's probably savoring the moment, drawing it out.

And so you ready yourself, fingers licked til they're sloppy wet with spit, mixing with liquid need, pressed up inside and scissoring, stretching; you've seen him at full attention and he is a beast, thick and veiny and if you rush a little it's only because you're so goddamned eager to get him inside you. But he sees what you're doing, and his hand on your wrist is a warning. _Pet. Don't try to cheat me. Remember. When you're with me, if you're hurt it'll be only because I choose to hurt you. Feel it sweetly for me, pet. Come closer, I'll help you._

And there he is with his hands on you, his fingers hooking into your mouth, brushing against your tongue, moving down to where you crave him most. Every gun callous is a sweet scrape through your folds; every line and scar maps out the story of how he got from there to here, how he's survived and thrived to become August _fucking_ Walker, scourge and villain and absolutely, unquestionably, completely

_Yours._

_Up you get. You're ready. Ride me._

The lights are up so he can see your face, see the way it twists in a brief and beautiful moment of _too much;_ his own expression is open, breathless like a punch to the gut. And you take him in, inch by precious inch, until he's seated to the root. He rolls his hips up, loses rhythm almost immediately with a gentle gasp that's practically a sigh. 

_August. Talk to me._

_It's good. Pet, fuck, you're so goddamned warm. Good, that's good. That's---_ And he only manages a few more thrusts up into you, unpracticed but there's that raw talent, there's that long dirty roll of his hips that lifts his ass right off the bed and takes you with him and he’s coming, bowed tight. There’s that _oh_ behind gritted teeth, end the moment when he has to pause and collect himself. 

Mouth and two hands indeed; once he can breathe again he’s lifting you off him and tugging til you’re over his face, til the drips and spatters of come leave a trail from his slick and shining cock clear up his belly to his mouth, where a drop lands on his tongue as he reaches, as he hauls you down onto his face. 

And yeah, sure, he didn’t last— but who lasts their first time? What’s important is the way he gets his mouth on you, the way he licks and sucks his taste back into himself, bound up in the flavor of your cunt. Now he’s marked you inside and out, in every way. As if there were ever any doubt that you could be anything but his. 

_There are many ways to fuck._

_Yeah, and some where you don’t even touch me. Some where all you do is watch, and I can almost feel your eyes on me. And this— thank you._ He’s soft in the post-orgasm haze, loose and open around this new feeling, absorbing it into himself. _Whatever it means to you, it means a lot to me. That I’m your first, that I can give you something new._

_Hush._

_It’s you, and so it’s everything, no matter what you say._


End file.
